


Breathe In

by PoachedEggs



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: As will the tags as I go along, Depression, F/F, Hysteria, I hope that no one has done this yet, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Phsychiatric hospital au, Rating May Change, Schizophrenia, Slow Build, There is no such thing as monsters and things of the like, Triggers, bill is human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoachedEggs/pseuds/PoachedEggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How can you help me if you can't even help yourself?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

White wisps swirled in the air. Bright red fingers burned. A man buried his hands deeper into his pockets as he followed his guide, absentmindedly licking his chapped lips. He stepped lightly, tip toeing over human waste and litter. His bones ached, moaned like the people who rocked back and forth on the floor. His heart screamed like the woman did who was being carried away as she dragged her nails across the wall. The man tightened his coat around him, standing by his orienter as he pointed out certain patients and traits that he found amusing. The man’s face tightened with a cruel sneer like the observer’s stomach as he watched hell freeze over. The observer began to hum to himself, losing himself in his thoughts for with this he was privileged in the house of the mad. 

~

 

Gingerbread and hot cocoa filled his senses. He combed through his hair and hummed approvingly with his double in the mirror. “Big day, Big day!” His sister squealed enthusiastically, a mantra that he feared would not end while he was still around and even when he was not. “Are you nervous?” 

He cracked a smile and he turned to his sister and was greeted by rosy cheeks, mahogany eyes like precious gems. Chocolate eyes closed and he took in a deep breath, tasting cinnamon. “Maybe a little, but who wouldn’t be on their first day?” The man chuckled, heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. 

The girl giggled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Don’t worry, bro bro. You got this.” The boy’s heart warmed and he nodded. The girl then turned away, curly chestnut hair flowing in her wake as she retreated to the counter. Picking up her apron, she looked towards the man. “I expect to hear everything when you get home. Grunkle Stan’s right?” Her waist glittered, the words “Pastel Couture” in a cursive rainbow. 

“Yep!” He confirmed. “See ya then, sis.” He waved as he shrugged on his overcoat, a jingle sounding out in the store as he opened the door. “See ya dipping-sauce!” Was her reply as he pushed through the freezing air. He shook from the sudden transition but still bore his smile, heaven’s light glowing around him. 

 

~

 

A cloud of darkness hung over him. He was being led to his office, but Dipper was hypnotized by what was going on around him. Sometimes he would have to side step around someone because he wasn’t paying attention of where he was going. Dipper jolted to the side when a patient threw himself against a window that was lined with metal bars and collapsed to the ground. His guide chuckled to himself at the side and Dipper felt like he was going to be sick. 

He should quit. He should walk out the front door right now and find a place somewhere else. But when he really thought about it, were other insane asylums any different? He remembered the history of these hospitals and how they would treat their patients. He was sure that times haven’t changed. Plus he didn’t want to live far away from his family if he found a job that was in a neighboring state or even many states away. He knew that his sister would give up her own job to be with him but Dipper knew how much she loved her store and she was so good at it. And grunkle Stan would never leave his shack but since he’d grown so accustomed to the twins presence, he would grow quite lonely and maybe fall into a sort of depression. 

So Dipper reluctantly followed his guide, trying to tune out his surroundings by humming , a song and thinking about the dinner tonight with his family. Soon, he made it to his appointed office and he looked around. 

It could have been worse. The desk, at least, looked pretty stable. There was an empty bookcase against the wall and a few armchairs in front of the desk. But upon further inspection, Dipper cringed. There was dry blood along the walls and stuffing and springs were poking out of the armchairs, along with claw marks running everywhere along the fabric. The windows were also barred but there was no glass on the other side, leaving the office freezing and very uninviting. 

“You’re quite lucky that they cleaned the space for you. Usually they just wipe up and call it a day.” Dipper nearly scoffed at his guide’s comment, hardly calling his office clean. 

“I’ll leave it to you then. You’ll get your first patient in a little bit.” He began to walk to the door and was closing it behind him before he stopped and said,” If the patient gets a little out of hand, there’s tranquilizers in the drawer of your desk. Have fun.” He closed the door and Dipper was left with nothing but the wind and his thumping heart. 

 

~

 

Dipper was exhausted. He only went through three patients and with each one he felt like he got no where. One was a skittish woman with crazy eyes, looking about the room as if something would come out and get her. She kept mumbling to herself and when Dipper tried to reach out to her for comfort she screamed and jumped out of the chair, making it scrape against the floor and she yelled,”Please don’t hurt me! I didn’t mean it!” And she ran to a corner, shielding herself as if Dipper would come after her and start beating her. 

His second was also another young lady, with dull, hooded eyes. Looking through her case file as she wouldn’t answer Dipper’s questions, he found that she used to be an avid drug user and an alcoholic and so she was a ‘burn out.’ After going to many rehabs and hospitals, she was dumped here by her family. Dipper didn’t like the silence that was left between them and he called for one of the nurses to come get her, wanting for the session to be over. 

Now, his third patient was something else entirely. He made Dipper’s head spin in frustration and interest and he was the one that made Dipper feel as if he just ran a marathon of dodged questions and flirtatious comments. 

He was a young man, in his early thirties. He had blond highlights on his bangs and the left side of his hair and the rest was dark brown. His left eye was covered by a gauze and a playful smirk was on his lips as he looked at Dipper with hooded, blue eyes. Something about him made Dipper squirm in his chair and make his cheeks feel warm. 

Flustered, he looked down at his patient’s file and found that his name was William Cipher. His father had put him in the hospital for reasons unknown other than a psychiatrist had dubbed him insane. But when Dipper looked at him, he didn’t see insanity. He saw sharp, intelligent eyes. His aura about him screamed sarcasm and playfulness. 

Clearing his throat and trying to keep his composure, Dipper began with,”Hello, I’m Dr. Pines. How are you feeling this morning?” Dipper pulled out a notepad and had a pen at the ready to write down William’s behavior and things of the like. 

William leaned in and placed his arm on his knee, resting his head on his hand. “Rather well now that we have a cutie working here.” 

Dipper spluttered at the comment and his pen rolled onto his notepad. William snickered at his reaction. Cheeks now flaming, Dipper said,”Well, William-” His patient butted in before Dipper could continue. “I’m gonna stop you right there, doc. William is what my father calls me. Call me Bill.” He leaned back into his chair, crossing his legs and folding his hands into his lap. 

Adjusting his posture, Dipper grabbed his pen. “Alright, Bill it is.” Dipper wrote down a few notes and looked up at Bill, trying not to affected by his gaze. “So tell me about yourself, Bill. How would you describe yourself?” 

“Single and ready to mingle. Speaking of which, let’s talk about you. What are you like doc? Submissive? Cause I can see you being a bottom.” 

Dipper was better prepared for Bill’s comments but that didn’t mean that it didn’t affect Dipper. “Now, Bill, what I am like does not matter. What matters is you. I would like to find out your personality, your likes and dislikes, things of that nature so that I can help you and treat you.”

“Oh I know how you can treat me.” He gave Dipper a wink and that did it for Dipper. “Alright, I can see that you do not wish to talk about yourself. What you’re trying to do is trying to make me feel uncomfortable and dodge my questions. Why are you trying to avoid my questions, Bill? Are you insecure?” 

“Oh I’m very confident about myself. I could show you just how much I am, if you like?” He smirked and Dipper put down his pen and notepad. “Ooookay, I think that’s enough for the day. Thank you for your time, Mr. Cipher. Hopefully we can get somewhere in our next session.” 

“You and me both, doc.” Bill got up and walked to the door, putting his hand on the knob and and he tilted his head back, saying,”by the way, you’re so adorable when you’re flustered.” And he left, leaving a very red Dipper. He couldn’t quite focus on his other patients after that. 

~

 

“Haha! He did what?!” Mabel was rather amused by Dipper’s interesting day. He reprimanded her for talking with her mouth full with food and continued. “Yes, he was hinting on taking off his clothes.” Dipper nibbled on his spoon, chili dancing along his tongue and warming him up after dealing with the harsh winds from the hospital all the way to his grunkle’s house. Just being fresh out of medical school he didn’t really have anything to afford a car and he refused to take Stans’. 

Rubbing his hands together, he blew into them,”And then I stopped the session right then and there. I may have been dealing with weird people with all day, but there is a level of weirdness I can’t take.” 

“You should have taken up his offer! I bet he looks rather handsome by the way you’re blushing.” Mabel wiggled her eyes at her brother and he looked down at his bowl, messing with his scarf and mumbling about the winds outside. 

They didn’t need to be afraid about their sexualities around their grunkle. Honestly, he could care less. When Dipper came out to Stan about being bisexual, his grunkle had guffawed and yelled,”Mabel! You owe me 10 bucks!” Which was followed by a groan from somewhere in the house. Mabel had told her grunkle that she was asexual ages ago and he didn’t beat an eyelash at her, giving her a soft hug and continuing to watch tv. 

Their grunkle then piped up,”Well, Dipper, do you find him attractive?” While Stan may have taken Dipper’s coming out lightly, he was very protective and judged Dipper’s dates very thoroughly, even one time having to be stopped from speeding off in the car with a shotgun when one of Dipper’s boyfriends had broken up with him. Dipper didn’t get very much I love yous from the old man, but his actions said enough. 

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I suppose he is, but, that’s just my opinion. It’s not like this was some sort of speed dating. He’s my patient and I shall treat him as such.” Dipper grabbed his mug of warm coffee and took a sip, thinking that the conversation was over. 

    “5 bucks says that he develops a crush on him by the end of the week.” Mabel said to Stan and he replied with a smirk. “I double the pot with the maximum of 3 days.” They both shook hands and Dipper nearly face planted onto the table.


	2. Chapter 2

   

    For his second day, Dipper had decided that he would observe the patients that he was assigned to going about their business. He was given about 15 patients and it took him a couple of hours to get all of the files organized in his office and then deciding that he might as well decorate a little bit. He had a cardboard box filled with little trinkets like the what-the-heck-a-hedron and some journals he created as a kid. He used to have a vivid imagination and would see many types of creatures, something that, as he continued to age, wished to be without. To cope, he would draw out what he saw and would even make up their origins, descriptions and how to defeat them. Even though he’s better now, he still felt like he couldn’t quite get rid of the journals so he held onto them as a keepsake.

 

    Leaning against a wall in the main lobby of the hospital, he was watching one of his patients, an elderly man who looked to be in his mid eighties, eating a cup of pudding and trying his best not to spill as he had parkinson's. Dipper scrunched his eyebrows together and was quite disturbed that no one was helping him. So, taking long strides to the old man, he pulled up a seat next to him and gently grabbed the man’s hand. The elder looked at Dipper in surprise and Dipper gave a kind smile, asking if he could help.

 

    As he fed the old man, Dipper inquired about his life and Dipper’s heart nearly cracked at the look the man gave him, filled with such joy that Dipper wondered if the man got any visitors or had any friends at the hospital at all.

 

    The man spoke of his childhood, how he started as a farmer at a young age and continued to be one when he was able to take over the land his family owned after his father. He found a lovely wife, had four kids and he slowly grew old with her, moments on the front porch in rocking chairs, watching the sunset together and sipping on sweet tea that his wife would make. Once old enough, their children left for the city and they rarely saw them as they were busy with school and soon with their jobs. But when their family did come together, the way he described it, it was like they were seeing each other for the first time in years.

 

    The man chuckled fondly, pudding finished long ago and Dipper listened attentively, forgetting to even write down notes. The man then continued, licking his lips and speaking of how he and his wife would make a grand feast for the family, nearly all the groups in the food triangle and their kids would speak of their lives, how successful they had become and the man would be filled with pride. Then, after dinner, while the women of the house cleared the table and were washing dishes, the men would go outside and just talk about nothing and everything, looking out to the fields. Rows upon rows of wheat and corn, the moon illuminating the grains and the wind gently swaying them.

 

     His boys would try to convince the man to come to the city, just pack up and take him and his wife and find a nice house in the suburbs and the man would always smile and shake his head, gnawing on a straw of wheat and rocking in his chair. He would always answer with,”I was born and raised here and I will die here.” And his boys would grow quiet and they would just relish in each others company.

 

     Then the war came and his boys were drafted, hundreds of thousands across the sea and they hadn’t even found wives yet and kids that they can come back to. Just an anxious mother and sister and a strong father.

 

     The brothers were separated in, away from each other with many miles between them and they died with no one to be with them. When they received the letter, his wife had fallen to the floor and shrieked, nearly laying flat on the floor as her daughter kneeled beside her, sobbing with her and holding on to her mother,  the person that held her every night as a kid and now it was her turn to do the same. The man said nothing and sat in his rocking chair for many nights, chewing on his wheat and he had nothing but his fields, the moon and empty seats beside him.

 

     At this point the old man was on the verge of sobbing, his voice cracking and Dipper began to tell him that he could stop but the man shook his head, pinching his eyes and taking in a shaky breath.

 

     His wife grew ill after that, and soon died of a broken heart. His daughter became a recluse, shutting herself away from the only thing left in her life and the man never saw her again. He had his property and he spent his time in his rocking chair, chewing on wheat and yearning for the days when the house was full.

 

     Many years passed with no sign of his daughter and he finally decided to go to the city, wanting to see his only family. He prepared his things, tending to his crops for his departure and a few days before his departure, he received a call that finally broke his strength. It was his second funeral he had gone to in a span of 4 years and he couldn’t even go his daughter’s coffin. He was the last one to stay behind at her grave that lay next to his wife. He asked his wife to watch over their daughter and he never returned to the city.

 

     Everyday, it was just him in his rocking chair, chewing on his straw and sipping on his own creation of sweet tea that made his heart clench and sobs would ensue.

 

     The old man had to pause, took a deep breath and Dipper didn’t want to hear anymore, he just couldn’t but yet he didn’t stop the old man from continuing.

 

     Years came and went and soon it was hard for the man to live alone so he soon sold his property off and he checked into an old folks home, but soon ended up here, and he wouldn’t tell him why. Either that or he wasn’t sure why, either.

 

     When he finished, Dipper didn’t know what to do. While the other patients that he met yesterday kept to themselves when Dipper tried to get something out of them, this man poured out his heart to him and Dipper was at a loss for words. But before he could say or do anything, the man said,”Thank you for listening. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to anyone.” The old man grinned. “I suppose it was so easy talking to you because you remind me of one of my sons: so smart and calculating.” He looked down to his shaking hands. “He didn’t deserve to be drafted. He was just a boy and he didn’t know what to do. He belonged in the city, figuring out what the cure for cancer was, not holding a gun and being turned to nothing but dust.”

 

     The man looked up at him and said,” Don’t let yourself be drafted. The war isn’t worth it and I know that we will gain nothing from it. There is no shame in dodging the draft. Save your family and stay alive.”

 

     Dipper nodded, saying,”Yes, sir.” And the old man nodded, again looking down at his shaking hands and Dipper rose from his chair, walking back to his office and feeling like he observed enough for the day.

 

~

 

    “Sweetheart, what do you think of this pattern?”

 

    “Mabel, you’ve been working on that thing for 20 minutes now and I’ve already told you that it’s very cute. You shouldn’t worry so much. Your stuff is great and people are gonna love it.”

 

    Mabel looked back down at her work and she whispered,”But-”

 

    Pacifica snatched the cloth away and Mabel replied with “hey!” as Pacifica went to a shelf and, folding it neatly, placed it on top of other clothes and spoke,” You need to take a break or you’re gonna strain your eyes, hon, or you’ll end up like four eyes over there.”

 

    Dipper was sitting on a couture couch, staring out the window that led to the street and watched white puffballs fall and people shielding themselves from the cold but all Dipper could see was a field of wheat.

 

    “What? Not gonna retaliate back with some half-assed comeback?” Pacifica looked at Dipper with sharp eyes and had placed her hands on her hips. While she looked like she was trying to offend Dipper, that’s just how she talked to Dipper. They grew close over the years and even more so when Pacifica began to date Mabel and their relationship soon became like a sibling rivalry, the stage in which both siblings would claw and growl at each other, but at the end of the day, they loved each other dearly and would always have one another’s back.

 

    Dipper stayed silent, Pacifica’s question falling on deaf ears and Pacifica’s stare softened and Mabel called to her brother.

 

    Dipper looked at the two girls, glasses reflecting off the fluorescent lighting. Really they were just reading glasses and he had decided to look into his patient’s files and write down notes but his mind had wondered off to family dinners and sitting on the front porch.

 

    “Sorry.” He said, taking off his glasses and pinching his eyes. “Just thinking.”

 

    Mabel frowned and Pacifica was about to say something before her eyes fell on the clock and she sighed. “Shit, I have a meeting to get to. I’ll see you for dinner.” She gave a Mabel a peck on the lips and strode out of the shop, her stature always demanding respect and it was rather intimidating.

 

    There was silence for a little bit, Mabel messing around with pieces of cloth and art supplies for she wasn’t sure if she should inquire about what was bothering Dipper, but she finally spoke up. “Did something happen at the hospital?” Dipper tilted his head back, hanging off the couch and he sighed, closing his eyes. “I was talking to one of the patients and he basically told me his whole life story and it was, I don’t know, kind of life changing? It made me think of life in a different way for a little bit.”

 

    Mabel walked around the counter, sitting down next to her brother and placing a hand on his knee. “What are you thinking?”

 

    He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “How do you think mom and dad are doing? I know they probably miss us a lot, but I wonder how they’re taking the fact that we’re adults now and there will come a time where we’ll see them less and less because we’ll get so buried with work. Like with you and your business, you’re getting a lot of recognition and you’re even getting calls from entrepreneurs about making your store a chain. And with me, I might have to start dedicating my time with staying with patients for I don’t know how long and I’ll be suffocated with notes and paperwork.” He rubbed his face. “And, I just, haven’t been feeling well lately.”

 

     Mabel knitted her brows together. “What do you mean by not feeling well?”

 

     “Like, it feels like I’m going back to how I was years ago. I can’t bring myself to do stuff, I’m letting myself get affected by people’s moods and I’m starting to feel exhausted. And it’s not like I haven’t been taking my medication, I just, I don’t know, maybe I’m just not cut out for this job.”

 

     Mabel answered in a soft voice. “It’ll take time to get used to this sort of job. And, Dipper, you’ve worked so long and hard to be a psychiatrist and I know that you’re gonna do so well. Learning life lessons is just a part of life and it all depends on how you look at it.”

 

     Dipper picked up his head and Mabel continued. “You’re not relapsing, you’re just trying to get comfortable in a new place. It’s what happens to everyone. It’s the anxiety of if you’re gonna do well, how you’re gonna affect your patients, and if you’re gonna make a difference in their lives.” She gave an encouraging smile. “If that patient of yours told you everything about his life, then you’re heading in the right direction.”

 

     Dipper gave a small grin,”Thanks Mabel.”

 

     “Of course, bro bro! Now,” She stood up and walked to the back of the store where there was a little pliget that had grey and black spots around its body. It was sleeping on a plush cushion and Mabel gently scooped him up, the piglet squeaking in surprise and Mabel returned to her brother, holding out the piglet to him. “Give Buttons a big hug and you’ll get to feeling better real quick.”

 

     Dipper took the piglet and looked at him. He had big, black eyes and its snout moving up and down, sniffing at Dipper and giving a little squeak that sound like a hiccup. Dipper smiled and brought the piglet to his chest and he looked at Mabel. “We should have a family dinner soon. With mom, dad, grunkle Stan and us.”

 

     Mabel nodded,”That would be nice. I’ll call them and make up a date for them to come down here.”

     They both then sat in silence, Buttons softly snorting and they watched the weather outside, relishing in each others company. 


	3. Chapter 3

      He would visit the old man often, actually remembering to write down notes and he paid attention to the man’s progress, watching his demeanor take a complete 180. Finding out that his name was Hank McGraw, Dipper, accustomed to respecting his elders, would call him Mr. McGraw but the man insisted that Dipper call him Hank, as if they were old friends. Dipper liked being in Hank’s presence. He felt as though, as the time between them passed, that he was a distant grandfather of his, and Dipper was happy to see the man brighten and welcome Dipper with such adoration that Dipper could say that Hank finally had a friend.

      Since Hank’s recovery was coming along so well, Dipper decided that he should move on to his next patient, a young girl who was only just 17. She would hang out in her assigned room most of the time, banging away on her pillow with anything that resembled drumsticks, Dipper would guess.

      Standing in the doorway of her room, he lightly knocked on the threshold and she stopped, turning her head to the door and giving a smile that Dipper was sure that no one has seen in some time. “Hello there. You must be Mr. Pines, right? I’ve seen you walking around and I gotta say, you’ve done more work in a day than any other doctor, in, well, ever.”Dipper raised an eyebrow at her and she said,”I’ve seen you with that old man. I’m really glad that you came when you did, I’m not sure how long he could have gone on like that.” She turned to where her legs were hanging off the bed, swinging them simultaneously. “I mean, I would talk to him sometimes, but, I got other things to do.” She shrugged. Dipper nodded and asked,”May I come in?” She smiled and patted on the bed next to her. Dipper was taken aback as she would let him so close to her but she reassured him. “I can tell that you’re not like the other doctors. You actually listen and want to help people. And, maybe it’s time that I got help from someone who cares.”

      Dipper didn’t say anything and he walked over to her, and sat down, deciding to not write down any notes to keep his full attention on her. He learned that it was better to listen first and then analyze later. He had a good memory, any way, and he felt that it was rather rude to not keep eye contact with his patients until after they have known each other well enough. The girl shifted in her spot, looking down nervously and she said,”Honestly, I’ve never really told anyone about what I was going through. I was silent, kept everything I did as a secret.” She chuckled nervously. “But, I don’t know, you have this aura about you that makes me feel like I can tell you anything.” She lightly tapped on her knees, playing out a rhythm that seemed like she had practiced many times. “But I gotta start somewhere.”

      She didn’t talk about her early life, her family, friends. She skipped all the way to high school and Dipper gently inquired about her childhood but she simply shook her head and said that it wasn’t important and Dipper didn’t push the subject. She spoke of how the only thing that mattered in her life was music. She was a percussionist. She said that she was introduced to it at an early age of about 8 and she especially loved playing around with the marimba, anything that involved using mallets, really. But the bane of her existence was snare. She could never get it and it always would end up with her crying her eyes out because she couldn’t get a certain exercise and her instructor trying their best to calm her.

      The more she continued in the music field, the more she became stressed with trying to live up to the expectation of being the best player and also trying to balance school at the same time. She tried each year with snare, and each time she failed. It began to bring her down more and more and she soon saw herself as nothing.

      “It’s silly, ya know?” The girl said, tapping away on her knees. “To think that music influenced me so much. I don’t know myself why it did, but, maybe it was because it was something that I could potentially be good at. I didn’t excel in anything else. I tried out for different sports and I never cut it, my friends would talk about what they succeeded in and when I was asked about how I was doing with school by family and relatives, all I would do is shrug and say that band is my favorite.”

      Her tapping began to accelerate and it became louder as her anxiety began to grow. She said that the only problem was that she had terrible stage fright and playing in front of instructors, which was expected when trying out, and also having an audience of other students judging her themselves, she would just freeze, unable to play a single note and she would bow her head, put down her mallets and sit back down in her seat. She cared far too much.

      It was after one particular audition, for region band, playing to be apart of a state band, that she completely lost herself. They were expected to learn 4 different pieces, and they would not know which parts would be cut for the audition. She had learned her pieces well, but, unfortunately, focusing on the snare more, she was far behind on her other pieces. Then came the day, playing in front of judges and students, and she croaked. Playing her first piece, playing on the very instrument that she learned well and loved over the years, she accidentally hit a wrong note and she froze. Her eyes wide and she could feel herself sweating. She could practically hear the whispering from the students behind her and the impatience of the judges in front of her. She finally then put down her mallets, taking her music and shaking so hard that the pages were rattling between her hands, and she was hyperventilating, fainting on the way back to her seat.

      When she came to, all she could see were flashing lights and two men hovering over her, asking her if she remembered what her name was, what happened before, and she couldn’t answer, replaying her mistake over and over again.

      She was taken out of band after that but that didn’t mean that she could get away from her nightmare. She wasn’t a well known girl, only having a little circle of friends, but her incident spread and people began to twist it, saying that she faked it to get attention and the rumor even spread to other schools, finding it online and even brought up in her group of friends.

      Hands shaking, unable to continue playing on her knees, her eyes were wide and Dipper wondered if this was what she looked like when she played in front of an audience. “It was so silly. Something so small and insignificant being blown out of proportion.” She turned to Dipper, eye slightly twitching. “But it still ruined my life.” She resumed her tapping, this time it was ecstatic and fast, sometimes missing her knees as her hands were shaking so badly.

      She spoke of how high school went on, promises to keep in touch were broken after the first month of graduation and she was left alone with nothing but herself and the thing that meant the world to her but changed her forever. She gulped and her tapping stopped, hitting one last note and she curled her hands into fists. “And then I found myself here in a matter of months. I’ve never told anyone all of that before. It feels rather freeing but scary at the same time.”

      She then took one of Dipper’s hands into hers and before Dipper could react, she said. “It’s okay to have a passion. But make sure that you balance it out with everything else, as well as taking time to step back and look at things from a different viewpoint. Don’t let yourself get taken away, even if it’s mentally.” She gently squeezed his hand. “Okay?”

      Dipper hesitated then squeezed back and whispered,”Okay.”

 

                            ~

      Back in his office, he was writing down his experience with the young girl, finding that her name was Laura Goodwill. Her reason for being here was simple: high anxiety and her parents dropped her off here. Each file gave a straightforward answer on why each patient was here and never elaborated. Dipper frowned at this and closed her file, continuing to scribble down notes on his notepad and even writing side notes when an idea popped into his head and thinking of ways to help ease Laura’s anxiety.

      He heard a knock at his office door and Dipper stopped mid-sentence, looking up in surprise. He wasn’t expecting a patient, but he had a sneaking feeling that he knew who it was. While watching his patients, he felt that he was being watched himself and he had tried to ignore it, succeeding for the most part. Clearing his throat, he pushed his reading glasses up his nose and continued writing, saying,”Come in.” And he heard the door creak open and closed, footsteps slowly walking over to his desk and Dipper’s heart sped up in anticipation. He heard the sinking of a cushion in the one of the chairs and there was a brief moment of silence before Dipper finished writing down his thoughts and looking up to see the playful smirk of Bill Cipher.

      Putting down his pen and folding his hands on top of his desk, he said,”Hello, Mr. Cipher. Finally going to talk about yourself?” Bill sighed, putting his elbow on the arm chair and resting his head on his hand. “I told you, Mr. Pines, it’s Bill. Keep it up and I might just lose interest in you.” Dipper raised an eyebrow at that,”interest?” “Yes. It’s been a long time since someone like you has come around, being able to make people just spill their heart out to you.” His smirk grew bigger. “You have a gift, Mr. Pines and I’d like to see more of it. So let’s get to know each other, shall we?” There something about how he said it that made Dipper's heart skip a beat and he cursed himself for getting this way. And he grew even more embarrassed as he could see that Bill knew how he affected him, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

      Dipper took off his reading glasses and folded them. “Alright. I already know that you’re not going to say anything about yourself, so I suppose I’ll let you be the therapist for a little bit. What would you like to know?”

      “When were you diagnosed with your mental illness?”

      Dipper nearly flew back in his chair, mouth agape as he whispered,”How did you-” He could have lied. Said that Bill’s statement was wrong but Dipper was a horrible liar and his reaction already gave away that Bill’s inquiry was true. Dipper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

      “It wasn’t hard to figure out that you’re not so different from the rest of us. No doctor has ever been able to get so much as a statement from any of us and here you are, already bonding with two patients in a matter of few hours. So tell me, Mr. Pines, what is it that exactly ails you?” He hooded his eyes and Dipper knew what he was trying to do, his demeanor rather flirtatious and he tried to make himself seem like someone that Dipper could confide to. But Dipper knew better. He didn’t know much about Bill but he could sense that Bill was rather manipulative. While Dipper was sure that there wasn’t much Bill could do with Dipper's history, such as blackmail. The worst thing that could happen was the other doctor’s finding out about him, but Dipper wasn’t going to give in.

      “Well, Bill, while I won't tell you what I’m diagnosed with, I’ll say that it’s been with me for quite some time, around the age of 15.” Wait, why was he telling him this? Dipper just observed that Bill was manipulative.

      Bill hummed in thought and sat back in his seat. “I see. That’s quite a young age. Usually most illnesses show up later than that, so it’s gotta be the ones that people don’t see often.” Bill made it sound like it was game, putting pieces together and slowly and setting Dipper up to bring him back down. Dipper waited, feeling as though Bill was going to diagnose him and Dipper felt a sense of de Javu, but Bill simply said,” Welp! I’m stumped! But at least I have something to bide my time with.”

      Bill looked at the clock on the wall behind Dipper and he stretched. “It seems that our time is up. But I’m glad that we got somewhere this time around.” He stood and walked to the door, waving back to Dipper and said,”See ya later, Mr. Pines.” A promise that Dipper secretly anticipated.


	4. Chapter 4

      Hank seems to have this glow about him and he began to socialize with the other patients and even some of the doctor’s. Dipper was a little hesitant at first for he feared that he would be rejected, but the old man’s charm won them over and Dipper never realized how much of a social butterfly he really was. When Dipper would visit him, he would find that he was surrounded by a small group of other elders and even a few young patients. It seems as though Dipper started to become well known because when he would approach the group, they would stop what they were doing and welcome him, motioning for him to take a seat and participate in whatever they were doing. His schedule began to fill up rapidly as patients began to ask to be transferred over to Dipper. He didn’t mind at all, the patients opened up to him and he loved the progress he saw as he did different methods of therapy.

      Lauren was coming along nicely, as well. Dipper, not being much of a musical person but he appreciated the fine arts, looked up what percussionists and their instruments were and, after a somewhat long drive to a music store and a very confusing, embarrassing, but rather educational, time finding the things he needed, he came to the hospital one day with a practice pad, a small glockenspiel, sets of mallets and drumsticks, and a few exercise books. When he had presented them to Lauren, her eyes filled with such life and she squeaked, practically shaking with excitement. Dipper couldn’t help the goofy grin on his face as Lauren thanked him over and over again. She held the practice snare in her hands with such care, as if it would break in her palms. Dipper began to feel a little nervous, wondering if he had triggered her but she looked up to him with a smile and she said,” When I’ve practiced enough, I would love to play for you.” Dipper relaxed and said,”I would like that very much.”

      Now, moving on to his next patient, he looked through her profile before he visited her. She was a young woman of 23 named Victoria, and apparently she tried to commit suicide and was placed here by her family. Dipper knew that he needed to approach her with caution for he understood how her mind worked: it would be hard for her to work up the energy to even socialize with anyone, especially Dipper, and she would, perhaps, feel as though Dipper wouldn’t care about what she was going through, thinking that he would think that she was only seeking attention and that would be that. Dipper would never be able to get through to her and so he needed to try his best to assure her that this was not so and give her his full attention, nodding and making small noises of understanding to show that he was listening.

      He had found that she could be found, most of the time, in the outdoor courtyard, sitting on a picnic table. She seemed to just observe the world around her, seeing how nature and humans interacted with each other. But it was still winter and most days it would be snowing and all she had was her grey sweatpants and what looked to be like a very thin jacket. Dipper had decided to ask Mabel to create a wool blanket and a sweater. She was more than happy to oblige and when the gifts were finally ready, he walked out into the courtyard, making sure that his posture was angled to where he would not look threatening and he strided to her side, feet beginning to cool as they sunk into the glimmering snow, an array of colors that danced along the white blanket. At least the sun was out, but it didn’t really help with the chill that seeped into the shade.

      Victoria’s face was angled towards the sun, eyes closed as she relished the warmth that tickled her cheeks. Dipper stopped across from her and cleared his throat to signal that he was there and she slowly opened her eyes, bringing her head back down to look at Dipper. Dipper couldn’t help but oggle at her eyes, hazel eyes tinted with grey like smoke. The light accented them and Dipper could swear that the grey smoke was flowing across her eyes. Dipper gave a kind smile and introduced himself. “Hello, I’m doctor Pines. May I have a seat?” The girl was hesitant but gave a nod and he swiped away the snow that was on the seat and sat on the bench which provided a chill that went through his body and he couldn’t help but make a small yelp from the sudden cold. The young woman smiled and gave a chuckle, covering her mouth to silence her laughter and Dipper was glad that their encounter was starting off on a good note. He was terrible at starting conversations ever since he was a young boy. Even though he grew past the awkward and sweaty stage that came with puberty, his introvert side stuck with him as he aged and it was at his worst when he was diagnosed and he barely left his room, only letting in his sister as she helped him to come back to reality.

      He then had a sudden thought and he produced a blanket that was so soft that it was almost like you weren’t touching anything at all and a sweater. The blanket was a baby blue and was decorated with snowmen and reindeer for the holiday that was coming up. Snowflakes cascaded down the blanket and on the corner of it, Victoria was stitched into it with beautiful cursive letters. The sweater, Dipper was sure that it was rather big for Victoria’s small frame but it would provide a lot of warmth, had a pine tree stitched onto its white fabric, a buck and a doe lying under the tree together and random patterns and lines along the sleeves and abdomen and back that represented christmas lights and holly. Dipper was very impressed when he retrieved them from Mabel and when he said so to her, she beamed at him. Even when she received many flattering comments from people that came to her store and shopped online on her site, it was like she was hearing a first comment on her work, the comment that motivated her to do what she loved.   

      Victoria raised her eyebrows at the items and Dipper said,”I see that you love to be outside. I can’t blame you, it’s rather beautiful out here.” Dipper looked around for emphasis and looked back at Victoria. “But you can’t admire nature if you get sick. So, with the help of my sister, or, really, she did it all herself, I want to give you these.” He held out the gifts to her and, hesitating a little when she began to reach out, gently grabbed them from Dipper’s hands, her fingertips brushing against his and he cursed himself for not asking Mabel to make mittens and she looked down at her gifts. She gave a shaky sound of joy, eyes watering up and Dipper began to panic as he didn’t know what to do and he thought to himself “You’re a psychiatrist, you were trained to handle situations like this!” And he was about to say something but Victoria beat him to it. “Sorry.” She said, wiping her eyes and holding her gifts to her chest. “It’s just been so long since I’ve gotten a gift.”

      Dipper said nothing as Victoria composed herself. She sniffed and couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from her present and Dipper softly asked,”Would you mind trying it on? I just want to make sure that it fits.” Dipper then realized how that sounded and his face began to feel really hot as he stuttered out,”I-I-I mean over your shirt! I didn’t mean, like, take off your shirt. I w-wouldn’t want to see your body. Not that you don’t have a nice body, I’m sure it’s very lovely and-” Victoria burst out laughing and she covered her mouth, trying to stifle the sound. Dipper could hear little snorts in her laugh and he couldn’t help but think how adorable it was. “Doctor Pines, I knew what you meant. Don’t worry.” When her giggles had died down and Dipper’s face returned back to their natural color, Victoria pulled the sweater over her head, fixing it about her body and fixing her hair where it stuck out. She then took the blanket and put it put over her like a shawl, grabbing a fist full of the fabric and she rubbed it against her face, content. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much, doctor Pines.” She then wrapped herself completely in the blanket and they sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company until Victoria said,”I actually don’t like winter. It used to be my favorite season, with all of its christmas joy and I would love to go out driving around my neighborhood, looking at all of the christmas decorations. I would love to go on walks and come back to the house and take a nice, hot shower, that was always the best feeling.” She sighed. “And, just, being with family and friends.” She chuckled. “My family was always so crazy, too many things happening at once, everyone yelling and laughing and you couldn’t figure out which conversation to listen to. The animals were no help either, god we had so many, it was like Noah’s ark in there. You were either walking into an animal that was running around your feet or they were flying at your face when you sat down.” She tightened her grip on her blanket. “But now, every time this godforsaken season comes around, I just get tso angry, because, someone ruined this time of year for me. Someone that I loved oh so very much.”

      She didn’t start with her childhood or any time in her life, she spoke of a girl that she described as forever fleeting and enticing. They had been best friends all of their lives and were close against society's standards.This girl was taken by many suitors, but it was only to Victoria that she would give her body and soul to. The girl would sneak into Victoria’s room, or vice versa and their night together would always begin with a kiss, ending with both satisfied, but not whole. Victoria remembered one particular night, while both of their parents were out for a christmas dinner together, the girls had, of course, broke into their parent’s liquor cabinet and found a taste for wine. But they didn’t drink till they were drunk, only buzzed and warm. They both agreed that they would rather be in reality than in fantasy. They then took a drive and they decided to go around the ritsy neighborhood, admiring how the other half lived and they would joke about how they were going to get a house just like the ones they passed, creating a quick, sharp pain in Victoria’s heart. But their sightseeing was cut short when an inhabitant of one of the houses saw them slowly cruising down the street and they quickly shot out of there, laughing all the way back home.

      When they entered the house, Victoria announced that she was going to take a shower, and the girl gladly joined her. Plush lips melting together and roaming hands ghosting over heated skin. Soft sighs echoed throughout the bathroom as steam clouded the mirrors, unseeing as the two girls danced their way to the bedroom, skin still slick from the water that soon mixed with sweat throughout the night. Then they laid side by side, laying on their sides and looking into each other’s eyes. They said nothing as they softly panted, the girl’s lips pursed that Victoria couldn’t help but steal another kiss. Then the girl talked of her suitor, how he treated her and how she wished that she could run away with Victoria. Victoria listened to the girl spill out in front of her, caressing her cheek as she spoke and tucking damp hair behind the girl’s ear, fingertips gliding along the girl’s sides and legs. Then the girl whispered the very words that Victoria only imagined in her fantasies, her ministrations ceasing and she could no longer breathe. Victoria could not answer and let the girl straddle her as she began to kiss Victoria with such passion as she whispered those words over and over again. Tears trailed down Victoria’s cheeks as she held the girl tightly, answering her confession with her own.   

      They spent the rest of the night, enveloped into each other’s embrace and Victoria softly smiled, happy that her love would finally leave that manipulating suitor of hers. Too many times her love came to Victoria, shaking and sobbing into Victoria’s shoulder. Too many times her love gave that suitor chances and now the girl was Victoria’s and she was hers. But then came the morning, and Victoria found her bed empty. She never saw or heard from her love ever again, running off with the suitor. Victoria then drank a whole bottle of wine, turning her reality into fantasy and she went for a drive, deciding to ram into a railing at 45 miles per hour and her fantasy turned into reality.

      Victoria was shaking, but she did not cry, she only looked at Dipper with eyes that made Dipper anxious to hear what she had to say. “Reality is better than fantasy. You’re able to experience, explore, and live through things that you would have only dreamed about if you didn’t do it yourself.” She paused, and then said,” Experience is what keeps us going. It’s what makes up our reality, and that isn’t much of a bad thing. Because in reality you’re alive, you’re here, but soon you’ll have gone everywhere. Live your life, Doctor Pines. I know that sounds overused but it holds truth. Be free, okay?” She was searching in his eyes and he nodded, saying,”Okay.”

 

                          ~

 

      Victoria had left long ago, tired of seeing the winter, but Dipper stayed in his place, staring at the grey sky and thinking over not only Victoria’s story, but all of his patient’s stories. He began to feel as though he was the one receiving therapy, feeling rather cleansed and somehow old. He wasn’t sure if he liked this feeling or not, and soon becoming anxious, he began to hum to himself, a soft tune as he closed his eyes and soon he was softly singing, the wind as the acoustic and the trees the applause.

      “Beautiful. You never cease to amaze, Mr. Pines.” A voice sounded by him and Dipper whipped his head around to see the devious smirk of Bill. Bill pointed towards the table and asked,”May I?” Hesitant, Dipper nodded and Bill took his time to walk to the other side of the table, knowing that he was making Dipper’s anticipation rise more and more. Soon, Bill plopped on the seat and rested his head on his fist, cerulean eye blended with white like the day, full of curiosity, stared into mocha ones, blended with black, like that of the twilight. Somehow, Dipper did not feel uncomfortable by Bill’s staring, rather he felt as though he was staring back with the same expression. Bill was an interesting patient, indeed, and Dipper was determined to crack open Bill’s shell, and Dipper somehow knew that Bill felt the same.

      Bill tilted his head, smirk turning into a soft smile and he sighed contently, mist flowing towards Dipper and Dipper couldn’t help but ask,”So why is it, really, that you find me so interesting?” Bill hummed in thought, looking at the sky and finally said,”it’s not only that you seem to fit in so well with us, but I feel as though I know you from somewhere. Now, I never really got out much as a kid, and being here for 20 plus years didn’t help much either, so I’m quite puzzled, and I’m great at solving things!” He said enthusiastically. Dipper blinked and said,”Wait, you’ve been here for over 20 years?” When Bill answered with a “mhmm” Dipper said,”But, why? What did they diagnose you with?” Bill shrugged and said,”Hysteria. Not much of a mental illness, if you ask me, but that’s my opinion, and my opinion doesn’t count for much.”

      Dipper looked at Bill with sympathetic eyes and Bill straightened up. “Now that look just doesn’t suit you. I mean, it is rather adorable, but you’re the therapist here, Mr. Pines. I feel like most of the time I’m slowly picking away at you.” Bill lightly moved his gauze that covered his right eye, as if trying to itch at something. The words were stuck in Dipper’s throat, but he couldn’t help them from spilling out of his mouth. “May I ask how that happened?” Bill smiled, closing his eye and give a nod. “You may. Twas just a freak accident, really. I had a terrible night terror and my mother had heard my screams. She came in to check on me and witnessed as I popped my right eye out. I was about to go for the other one but she prevented me from continuing.” Dipper frowned, couldn’t help but showing his uneasiness.”Accident, huh?” Bill chuckled,”You may call it what you will. You are the therapist, after all.”

    They sat in silence, the cold suddenly feeling rather pleasant, as if it was just a spring breeze. Being with Bill, it all felt so familiar. Dipper guessed that was what caused him to feel uncomfortable with his first couple of encounters with Bill. He, too, felt like he knew Bill from somewhere.

    “How about this.” Bill said, reaching his hand out to Dipper. “Each time we converse with each other, we guess about each other’s past lives and secrets.” Dipper raised an eyebrow, and Bill gave an innocent grin. “I rather like games, you see. Would you like to indulge me, Mr. Pines?” Dipper thought out the repercussions of this ‘game’, the worst that could happen if Bill found out everything about him. But there was none that he could think of, and so Dipper nodded and said,”Sure, deal.” And they shook hands, the world as their witness.

 

                          ~

 

    It was family night again at the mystery shack and this time, Pacifica was joining them to witness their crazy conversations. Pacifica, while dating Mabel since high school, and finally marrying her as soon as the law passed in congress to make gay marriage legal, felt like she didn’t spend enough time with the pines family as a whole. So, moving around her busy schedule, she was seen around the shack and Mabel’s shop more often. Grunkle Stan didn’t want to show it, but Dipper could tell that Stan was beginning to regard Pacifica as another niece.

    Once their conversation died down about Pacifica’s boring meeting and Mabel’s run in with a quirky customer, Pacifica gave a sideways glance at Dipper and said,”So, Dipper, I hear that you have a love interest at your job.” Dipper nearly choked on his mashed potatoes and Mabel couldn’t contain her giggle. Grunkle Stan gave a grunt, showing that he was listening carefully to what Dipper had to say as he took a swig of his soda. “H-He’s not a love interest. He’s just a patient who is rather interesting and complex. He’s really hard to understand but I have gotten closer to figuring him out. We agreed on, well, a game of sorts where we guess at the other’s past and secrets and see if it reigns true or not. Mabel gushed,”Aw, you’ve finally mustered up the courage to flirt with someone. Good for you, bro bro!” She pumped her fist in the air and Dipper spluttered. “It’s not flirting! I am strategically piecing together my patient’s mind by indulging in his game.” Dipper gave a sniff, feigning dignity, and taking a sip of his coffee.”

      Grunkle Stan scooped up his mashed potatoes. “ Were you alone together?” Stan questioned.

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Well, yes.”

“Did you take some time to stare into each other’s eyes in silence?”

“Yes, but-”

      “You were flirting, son.” Stan ended the conversation as he gobbled down his mashed potatoes, leaving Dipper to flush at the realization. Pacifica gave a playful smirk and Mabel giggled again, flicking a pea at Dipper as it hit him square on the forehead and he hung his head, food forgotten.


	5. Chapter 5

     Dipper didn’t want to admit it, but playing this ‘game’ with Bill was rather fun. If this was the only way for Dipper to pick at his patient’s mind then he might as well indulge him, but he found himself being sucked in the world that is Bill Cipher: his charm, the way he moved and talked with such vigor and how he was always boisterous and animated, that it was like slow motion. Seeing someone this full of life, Dipper didn’t notice the goofy smile that always formed on his face and how he just looked at Bill with such adoration. It was as if Bill was rubbing off on him as Dipper woke up in the morning with such energy, ready for the day and even one time, while he was visiting Mabel, something overcame him and he just started singing to the radio, Jingle Bell Rock flowing throughout the room. Grabbing Mabel and spinning her around, he danced with her and the room filled with laughter as Dipper sang to the song, not knowing most of the lyrics and filling in the words with weird noises and hums. He felt so warm and content, it was even to the point where it was rather emotional, for some odd reason. He supposed it wasn’t a bad thing, but it was a very unusual feeling, indeed.

     However, with Dipper’s own sort of recovery making headway, he began to see less and less of Bill. He came like a midnight storm that left only traces of puddles in its wake. Dipper would look around for him when he got the chance, even ask a few of the patients and doctors but they would shake their head, saying they didn’t know who he was. Dipper understood, it was a rather large hospital filled to the brim with patients and seeing as how Bill was Dipper’s patient, he would be one of the few people who would have Bill’s files. But this didn’t sadden Dipper for, in a way, it felt like Bill was an old friend, a neighbor down the street that would visit, spend special occasions with and have long talks on the porch at night. The times Bill was gone, Dipper would reflect on their conversations, staring out his office window and smiling fondly. Those moments were very precious to him, and with each visit from Bill came a feeling of great tidings and anticipation.

     One day, Bill had eyed Dipper’s journal from when he was a kid and questioned it, Dipper perking up and trying to wave away the subject, embarrassed by his younger self. Bill snickered and stood from his chair, walking around the desk and attempting to reach for the journal and Dipper quickly snatched it away, holding it above his head like a child with a toy and Bill smirked, accepting the challenge. A few jogs around the office and a bit of tussling later, Bill held the journal high in the air in victory while Dipper sulked at his loss. Bill began to flip through the pages and Dipper was so afraid about what he would think, what would change between them but Bill looked at Dipper and asked,”A shadow sting ray, huh? I like the drawing and he seems like a nice guy. Tell me what he was like.” And Dipper smiled, going up to Bill and they began to discuss the various creatures that littered the pages, even arguing a little bit on what their weaknesses would be and how they perceived themselves.   

     Looking at a page that talked of a dream demon, Bill said,”Schizophrenia.” Dipper whipped his head at Bill with wide eyes, and Bill’s face was so serious that it was rather scary. “I’m taking a guess. You’re ailed with Schizophrenia, am I right?” He should have been tense, hands shaking and hyperventilating, but Dipper simply said yes and Bill nodded, giving a small grin. “Bill: 12, Dipper: 3. You need to get your act together, pine tree or am I turning into the therapist here?” Dipper swore that Bill was magical as he seemed to guess so well about Dipper, but his name wasn’t that hard to figure out as Bill saw Dipper’s birthmark and when Bill whispered,”The Big Dipper.” Dipper had picked up his head to respond to his name and it ended with a flustered Dipper and a cackling Bill.

     With Christmas next week, Dipper was taking his lunch break to figure out some last minute shopping for his family and a few of his patients. He wished that he could get gifts for all of his patients, but 1. Some of them were too far gone to even realize what Dipper would be giving to them and 2. Dipper hasn’t accumulated much money yet to do such a thing. So, he began to scribble away on a spare notepad, easily thinking up gifts for Mabel, Pacifica, and Grunkle Stan. While Soos was rather far away with Miracle, this didn’t shake Dipper’s determination to send a gift for the both of them, although Dipper was afraid that the gift wouldn’t make in time due to snow storms and things of the like. He even thought about sending a gift to Wendy, but no one had heard from her for a long time. She never visits Gravity Falls anymore and asking her family about her wouldn’t be much help as Wendy’s father had died from liver disease from drinking so much. He never told anyone the reason why, but he had quit his job at the lumber yard, alone in his house as his sons had left long ago. His funeral was not grand, as his son’s knew what their father would have wanted, but Wendy was nowhere to be seen. People whispered about how Wendy was a selfish daughter and making up rumors that spread throughout the attendants at the funeral that she was a whore that worked on the streets or that she had run off with a boy that abused her. Without even realizing it, not even sure where his courage came from, Dipper spoke up and ridiculed the attendants, shaming them for weaving such lies. Mabel stood by her brother’s side, backing up her brother and Grunkle Stan stood on the other side of Dipper, a reassuring hand on Dipper’s shoulder. Wendy’s brothers stood behind Dipper and never before had Dipper felt so tall and strong, head held high and chest puffed out.

     His sticky note already had a knitted sweater and hat for Buttons written down (Dipper is not afraid to admit that he quite enjoys knitting, the want for masculinity far from his mind as he grew accustomed to his likes and dislikes, and Dipper was filled with pride when Mabel would praise him on his work) an overcoat for Grunkle Stan(that man needed to take care himself more, Dipper didn’t care how much that man said that bracing the cold makes you a man), some makeup and fashionable clothes for Pacifica and Mabel, he’s been around his sister and Pacifica many times when they went out to shop in Victoria’s secret and Sephora and Dipper was well acquainted with was in for the season(if you ever need some tips on makeup, just come to Dipper. He’s got you, girl) and a nice chinese tea set for Soos and Miracle. He just hoped that they would like it as, even though they received many phone calls and had countless amounts of online chats with the both of them, Dipper was afraid that his choice would not appeal to their taste. But Dipper knew Soos and Dipper and Miracle had bonded a lot over the years and they both would accept the gift, regardless.

     Gnawing on his pen, eyebrows furrowed together as he thought about what to get his first patient on his list when he heard his doorknob to his office begin to turn. Dipper’s head snapped up, heart speeding up a little as he expected it to be Bill but was rather disappointed when this person was quite the opposite. Dipper shuddered, the temperature in the room suddenly dropping as this person closed the door behind them slowly, looking as if they were gliding across the floor as they approached Dipper’s desk. They looked like the average patient, but there was something about them that was way off; their eyes were a pale blue, bags upon bags under their eyes and were a shade of purple. They looked sickly and they even coughed every now and then and Dipper worried that he would have a death on his hands. They sat down on one of the chairs and looked at Dipper with such sad, tired eyes that Dipper could feel his aura seeping into his own skin, chest filled with a sense of doom and anxiety rising into his throat. Gulping, Dipper began, tentatively,” Hello, my name is Dr. Pines. I haven’t seen you around the hospital before. Are you a new patient?” The man slowly nodded and Dipper began to feel lethargic, his head fuzzy and clouded. "Alright." He said, clearing his desk, sticking his note of presents somewhere nearby and he looked through his files,”So, how about you tell me your name.” The man’s jaw slowly opened, voice like sighs and slow, as if he was trying emphasize his words,”We go by many names, but all of them mean the same.” Dipper could not find this man’s file, and their session was already beginning poorly. Dipper felt a sense of deja vu, the image of Bill popping into his head as he further poked at this new patient. “Ooookay. How about you tell me a little bit about yourself? You can begin anywhere you like.” Dipper gave a kind smile, clicking his pen and leaning forward in his chair to show that he was paying close attention to his patient.

     More sighs and Dipper felt the need to run out of his office, to get away from this man right now. Something bad was going to happen, but the man began his story:

We are as old as the boy we see

But we were the shadow, trailing behind thee

We watched the boy grow like a weed

How he did not bend by the strongest of winds and the gardeners could not get rid of him

But the world changes and so did the boy

He became nothing more than a toy

     Dipper’s hands began to tremble. He clicked his pen and put his notepad and the pen onto the desk, folding his hands on his lap to stop his shaking but his head began to swim and he felt like he was slightly swaying in his seat.

His stem cracked open

His shadows were free

And soon the boy couldn’t see

He became the shadow

He was plucked from the garden

The lovely rose and sunflower, that the weed knew well, begged his pardon

For the shadows made the boy cold and he grew old

The lovely flowers could do nothing but hold onto the boy as he laid on the ground

Not making a sound

Not even looking around

     Dipper stood from his desk on shaky legs, vision blurred as he tried to make his way to the door. I need to find Bill. He repeated it in his head over and over again, afraid that he would forget his objective but soon he fell to his knees, legs giving out. He was resorted to crawling and he did so, as the man continued to look forward and continue:

“Come back to us!” The flowers cried

The weed could only sigh

What was the point? He thought. All I do is make them distraught

Perhaps it would be best if I died and were laid out to dry

“Let me see the sunlight one last time.”

That was fair, the shadows reasoned. It was a particularly beautiful season

     He was so close to the door, so close to finding Bill. But he grew afraid as shadow people began to crawl towards him, oozing from the walls and slipping through the door. The grabbed at him, their touch burning his skin and he groaned, and he began to question himself. What was I even doing? Why am I here? Perhaps I can just lay here and sleep for awhile.

‘Twas a mistake!

How the shadows groaned with horror

For once the boy was brought to the sunlight, something with him bloomed that would treat him right

He came by many names, but all of them meant the same

He took the shadows away

He never showed himself to the boy but he was secretly there

With each laugh and smile

Until they were united and he planned to stay for awhile

But were not forgotten, something like a scar

We healed quickly and now our time has come again

To rid thee of light and to get rid of him

     Someone barged into the room, and Dipper couldn’t see who it was but he gave out a tiny,”Help.” Before succumbing to the darkness, hearing a familiar voice call out his name before he finally fell asleep.

~

     Dipper couldn’t open his eyes, his lids too heavy and so he relied on his hearing and touch; he could feel something in his arm, a clamp on his finger, and a plastic-like bracelet around his wrist. He glided his hand on the covers that were on him, they were so warm, as if they were just heated up and Dipper began to slightly grinned, the other foreign feelings forgotten as he sank into the mattress more, feeling sleep beginning to overcome him again. Wherever he was, it made him feel comfortable and safe. When he awoke again, his eyes were not as heavy as before and he was able to pry them open. He cringed at the light above him and Dipper shielded his eyes from the harsh beams but tensed up when he saw what was on his hand. Some sort of finger clamp and when he looked farther up his arm, a needle attached to a tube that led to an iv bag that was to his side. Panic began to rise in his chest as the realization of where he was began to rise in his foggy mind. He looked around, seeing a nurse’s station outside of his room with a nurse, looking up every once and awhile to check on Dipper. She stopped what she was doing, seeing that Dipper was awake and she watched him. For some reason, this is what made him snap. “What?! What the fuck are you looking at?!” Dipper shot up in bed and began to tear away the needle, a sharp pain shooting through his arm as he was sure he just damaged the blood vessel even further and he threw the finger clamp off of him, the monitor sending out an emergency beep. The nurse was gone, but Dipper could hear frantic yelling and Dipper knew this was his chance to escape. His leg was awfully sore, but he made do and limped to the door, throwing the door open and whipped his head every which way for the exit. He saw the nurse and soon a few others as well as doctors and Dipper ran the other way, screaming,”I don’t belong here! There’s been a mistake!” He didn’t make it far as he was slowed by his leg but he put up one hell of a fight, kicking and getting in a few good punches to the nurses and doctors. “Get the fuck off of me! I’ll fucking kill you! This is all wrong! There is nothing wrong with me! THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!!!” His throat was sore, streams of tears running down his face and he just screamed and sobbed, unable to think of anything else to say as he was led back to his room, being strapped to the bed. He called out for Mabel, Grunkle Stan, Pacifica, and Bill, making him feel like a child but he needed someone he knew to be here with him, not alone with these strangers.  

     They grabbed his arm, sticking a needle in with little care and Dipper hissed at the pain, the nurses and doctors staying with him as he fell asleep.

~

     He was monitored for a full two weeks, therapists coming in everyday and asking him the same question over and over again and after awhile, Dipper would butt in halfway through the question with his answer. Dipper had learned that he had nearly overdosed on the tranquilizer needles that had been placed in his desk on his first day at the hospital and Dipper not react to this truth. After his episode with that ‘patient’, he pieced together that it was just his imagination and when he gets that way, he does things that he does not remember when he comes out of it. He spent his days staring up at the ceiling or staring aimlessly at the nurse’s stations, making the workers uncomfortable and having each one wanting to switch their station with someone else.He was bored and there was nothing else to do but stare. He was so drugged up that there were times that he could feel himself drooling and his body would twitch, wanting to walk around and stretch but he knew what would happen if he even tried to rise. They had allowed him to not be strapped down and he was not going through that again.

     The only interesting thing that happened during his stay was the patient he had the pleasure of meeting the day he lost himself. Most of the time he would sit by Dipper’s side, watching him and Dipper would stare back. It wasn’t creepy, rather, it was soothing. What Dipper was feeling when this man came around, it was a very familiar feeling. The man would sigh and he would even thread his fingers through Dipper’s hair and brush his fingers against Dipper’s cheek and Dipper would lean into the touch, closing his eyes and falling asleep to face nightmares he hadn’t dealt with in many years.

     When he was finally omitted from the psych ward, Dipper didn’t feel happy or felt like celebrating. He was very exhausted, probably from the medicine that was still in his system and when he was greeted by his family outside the front doors, being embraced by the girls and them silently crying into his shoulders, he hugged back with all of his might, but it felt like it was a halfhearted attempt. The drive home was silent, Dipper leaning his head on his sister’s shoulder and holding onto Pacifica’s hand, her hand squeezing gently and Mabel stroking Dipper’s cheek. When they got home, Dipper was lead to his room, supporting hands on his back and shoulders and he was led to his bed, tucked in and he was given affectionate kisses from the girls and Mabel and Pacifica went across the room, sitting on Mabel’s bed, backs against the wall as they watched tv on low volume. Dipper looked to his side, seeing the man as he began to thread his hands through Dipper’s hair and Dipper soon lost himself to the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update! Had to get a few things sorted but it's all good now. I hope you enjoy this chapter

      He could swore that he could make out the intricate designs of the snowflakes, each one unique from each other. His hands were outstretched, cupped so that he may catch the winter’s beautiful creation. He couldn’t help but smile when they would land on his skin, but nothing ever lasts and these snow crystals were no exception. They soon disappeared and Dipper frowned at the sight. His mind then wandered to compare these snowflakes to that of humans, how there was never a person who was alike, even twins. But each one had the same fate, that there was the possibility of someone who would come along and change them, melt away what they once were until there was nothing left of what they used to be. Dipper didn’t realize that he had begun to cry, tears falling onto his numb skin. Every tear was alike and there was no uniqueness, no beauty and no one wishes to see them. But Dipper watched as the snowflakes fell onto the tears, instantly gone and Dipper thought of how this scenario represented society and its loathing of imagination, something different. Dipper didn’t know when he began look into things poetically, but he supposed that it was the fault of the man who appeared to him at night, whispering the events in Dipper’s life that Dipper had shoved away into the back of his mind because Dipper deserved to be happy. But now Dipper wasn’t so sure anymore. 

      Then, Dipper felt a hand gently land on his shoulder and was followed by a whisper. “Come on, Dipper. Let’s get you back inside.” Dipper did not fight as he let his sister lead him back inside, holding onto her hand like a child with a safety blanket. They would talk about how Dipper should be admitted again to a hospital, that the psychiatrist would figure out what types of medication Dipper needed and a therapist would always be on hand if Dipper would need someone to talk to. But in the end, they would all agree that the psych was more trouble than it was worth. A few weeks into being at home, Dipper would shape his hands into pistols and he would pretend to shoot at people, making sounds and it would close his eyes, head lolling from side to side. He had been around homicidal and suicidal patients long enough and that was something he did not need in his life if they wished for Dipper to get better. After a while, Dipper’s homicidal tendencies had disappeared but he still talked to nothing and when asked who he was talking to, Dipper would only say ‘the poetic man’ and Mabel and Pacifica would take Dipper outside to get some fresh air, all three of them sitting on the couch that had been through so much: weather, love, heartbreak, content, and so much more. Dipper would end up falling asleep and Grunkle Stan would carry him to his bed, the girls worrying and saying that they could do it themselves but Grunkle Stan would only say,”I just want to help take care of my grandnephew, is that too much to ask?” The girls would say nothing else but they still circled around Grunkle Stan, just in case. 

      One day, when Dipper couldn’t get out of bed and the girls had gone out to get something to eat-his only request was some Taco Bell-he heard a knock at the door and Dipper mulled over whether or not he wanted any visitors today. Deciding that some company would be nice, he answered with a “yeah?” and Grunkle Stan walked into the room. He gently closed the door behind him-for some odd reason, loud noises scared Dipper to death-and Grunkle Stan slowly walked to Dipper’s bed, his cane thumping on the ground. Carrying Dipper had taken its toll and a few days ago, Stan’s back had given out and he landed on his back, making sure that Dipper would not land on the floor. They had gone to the ER and the doctor stated, after taking a couple of x-rays, that Stan had slipped a disk in his spine. They got him a back brace and a cane and Grunkle Stan had protested at first but after witnessing Mabel crying for her Grunkle’s health, Stan immediately pushed aside his pride and took the brace and cane. Dipper blamed himself for what happened and for that reason he couldn’t get out of bed. Nothing or no one could console him and the poetic man didn’t help, even repeating the events that had happened to his Grunkle and Dipper said nothing, completely silent besides the tears that slid across his cheeks. 

      Sitting down, Stan let out a pained grunt but sighed but relaxed when he didn’t put strain in his back. He had both hands on the cane and he looked at Dipper with soft eyes. Dipper stared back and awaited for what his Grunkle had to say. The first few times when Dipper received that gaze from his Grunkle, Dipper felt rather odd and a little uncomfortable, never seeing this side of his Grunkle. But Dipper became used to it and after awhile he wished that he could be stared at in a different way, not something that showed pity and sympathy. But what could he do? They were family and how could you look at family in any other way when one of them is going through so much? 

      Grunkle Stan ran his fingers through his hair, avoiding Dipper’s gaze and Dipper felt a little uneasy, knowing that Stan was going to speak of something that Dipper has probably, and never would have dreamed of, never heard from his Grunkle. They both understood each other, that they didn’t physically show affection but they exchanged their love through pats on the shoulder or through gazes. But due to the circumstances, a few rules were going to be broken but that didn’t mean that it the conversation would be easy to start. Dipper could tell that Grunkle Stan did not prepare himself for this conversation and so Dipper started it for him. “I’m sorry that I’ve been such a burden. I wish that I could be-” Grunkle Stan gave a frustrated grunt and he practically glared at Dipper. “You see, that’s one of the things that I hate and can’t stand. You always believe that you’re a burden and when we try to tell you otherwise, you always turn it around just so that you can back up what you think about yourself. Now, I can’t tell you to just stop it because that’s all you’ve known, to hate yourself. But Dipper, if you were a burden, the girls and I wouldn’t go through the things that we do for you and with you. I would have left you in that hospital and move on with my life.” 

      Dipper frowned and said,”So you want to move on with your life without-” “Jesus, kid. Right there. Do you hear yourself?” Stan rubbed at his eyes. “Why, Dipper. Why do you hate yourself so much?” Dipper turned his gaze towards the ceiling. “It’s all I’ve known. I don’t know why, nothing bad happened in my life besides all the things that occurred during my teenage years...I have no reason to hate myself and that’s the scary part. Most people have reasons why, but I don’t so i don’t know how to fix it.” Silence, then Grunkle Stan said,”you’re right, it is scary. You know, when I was about your age, I hated myself, as well. After my brother disappeared and my parents kicked me out, I tried to hide my hatred through running around the country, swindling people of their money because I thought that was the only thing that I was good at.” Dipper sat up in bed and placed his hands in his lap, head cocked to the side. “What did you do?” Grunkle Stan looked into Dipper’s eyes and said,”I met you and your sister. You were so young and yet you two understood what love was and you gave plenty to me. How could I hate myself if there were others who thought greatly of me and wished to be with me?”

      Dipper looked down at his hands and Stan placed a hand on Dipper’s knee. “You got through this once and you can get through it again. Like someone who hasn’t practiced swimming you get a little rusty when you get back into the pool after a while. But your instincts never leave you and you quickly pick it up again. It’s only been a few weeks, Dipper. At some things, you have to learn at a slow pace but life isn’t a race, it’s a marathon. As long as you cross the finish line, that’s all that matters. There is no prizes at the end, only the feeling of completion and pride. I crossed my finish line when I met you two, now it’s your turn to cross it. It’s okay to take breaks and walk, but that’s what makes us human. You’ll get there, Dipper.” Stan gave a pat on Dipper’s knee and with a grunt, stood up and began to walk to the door. 

      “I love you.” 

      “...I love you, too.” 

 

~

 

      Dipper began to see less and less of the poetic man and when he did see him, it was like Dipper was watching an old black and white movie. The man’s color began to fade away and he became distorted and when he spoke, there were crackles and pops with his words. Dipper began to eat more, he was able to take care of himself and he went out with the girls when they wanted to go to the mall or to the movies. Dipper had called his work and he estimated that he would be able to come back next Monday. They told him of how his patients missed him and Dipper grinned from ear to ear, slightly blushing as he asked for them to tell his patients that he would be back soon. 

 

It was scary,I understand

You were barely a young man

 

      It was unexpected when he came to see Dipper. It was the weekend, only a couple of days before Dipper was to return to his patients, but one of them had decided to come and see him early. Dipper had been on the teetering edge of falling asleep and being awake, his eyes closing and opening in slow increments when he saw him sitting on the edge of Dipper’s bed, his signature, mischievous grin stretching across his face as he crossed his legs, foot tracing a circle as he crossed his hands on his knee. Dipper didn’t think anything of it, he knew that it was just his imagination, a hallucination that proved that Dipper was missing a certain someone. “What can I help you with?” Dipper asked. “I wish to know what happened to you when you were admitted into the hospital as a teenager.” 

      “What an odd thing to ask.”

      “Well, curiosity is my best quality.”  

      Dipper relaxed further into the bed, taking in a deep breath as he decided to indulge with his imagination. He had to be quick, however as the girls would surely be coming to bed soon and Dipper didn’t want them to walk in on Dipper talking to nothing. “When I was in the process of being admitted, there was a girl right next to my room who was screaming and wailing at the top of her lungs to have the process speed up. But, even though she threw around objects in the room, slammed the door, practically fought the nurses, I did not react.” 

      “Why?”

      “Because I knew what she was going through.” 

 

It felt like eternity for you to be admitted

No protest for you to be acquitted

Put into the wrong wing with the young

But it was quite the experience, you were so hung

 

  
      ”At first I was put into the wing that took care of kids from 14 to younger. You would think that the reason why they were in there would be a simple thing, that they were taken away from their folks or that they had nowhere else to go. But all they spoke of was drugs and sex. I remember that there was this one boy who told me that he did coke for 2 months, causing his eyes to twitch and a girl who cut so deep into her arms that you could see the main vain.”

 

Up with their stories, how they got here

If their lacerations didn’t say anything, oh how you feared

For the new generation filled with cocaine and lies

But I suppose that in this day and age, anything flies

 

Finally, put into the right wing, the ones that were your age

But was it any better? No, it was like a plague

  
One by one, they all affected you

Gave you ideas on what to do

“Pick at the wood that shapes the bed

Kick at it until you bled”

 

      “I didn’t expect all the things that I experienced in that place. I thought that everyone there would have wanted to get better, you know, the reason why they were there. But most of them didn’t want to be there, saying that they were forced to go. They talked about how they lied to their therapists and psychiatrist, saying that they weren’t thinking about suicide or harming others. But I remember one saying that when they got out, they were gonna go shopping, pick out some clothes, and then shoot up the store and then kill themselves. Another wanted to eat pizza and then just die.”

 

This was not what you wanted

This was not what you needed

“I want to get better.” You said

“But your advice is headed”

 

Social groups and activities, all of this meant for you

But this was all worthless

the effort

all the things that you try to do

 

      “They filled my head with thoughts that I never in my life even thought about. They made me ponder over what it would be like to kill someone and how I would do it.  I would join their conversation, giving my two cents on how we would kill the other boys that were in the wing and things like that”

 

You wrote in your free time, leaving a calice 

But you couldn’t help the things that aren’t there

voices laced with malice

 

You couldn’t escape your kind

You were born to be with the mad

The most familiarity you’ve ever had

Even now you’re with them, spiritually, I mean

 

      “I had to get out of there and I brought it up with my therapist and psychiatrist and they both agreed that it would be best for me to leave. They had tweaked my medication to where it helped me a lot and they thought that they had helped me all they could and that the rest was up to me.”

 

The thing

The monster

The imposter

Call it what you but in the end they all mean the same

 

You’re worthless, nothing but a pawn that’s easily replaceable

If you die, no one’s responsible

no one would fret

Because, my dear boy, no one really cares

~

      The day finally came and Dipper was given two pecks on the cheek and a pat on the back before he left to return to his work. It was a new year now and a new start for Dipper Pines. He walked to the asylum with a pace that said that he had things to get done, things that would easily be taken care of. When he arrived, he did not receive much of a welcome for his colleagues but his many patients approached him with open arms and dipper couldn’t help but remember the talk that happened between him and Grunkle Stan. After many reassurances that Dipper was fine and a few bits of conversation were exchanged, Dipper went to his office and stood in the threshold, scanning his office. They at least cleaned up the mess that Dipper had created. Dipper puffed out his chest and walked to his desk, plopping onto his chair and got to work. He flipped through the files of his patients, wondering which ones he should get to work on first. He couldn’t seem to find the file on Mr. Mcgraw and Dipper nearly slapped a hand against his forehead. He realized that he didn’t get to say hello to his good friend. He quickly stood from his seat and walked towards the day room, where Hank spent most of his time with the other elders.

      The elders had looked up from their conversation, declaring Dipper’s name with adoration as Dipper approached them. They gave him pats on the back and the ones who couldn’t get up without help shook Dipper’s hand. After the greetings, Dipper asked where Hank was. Their smiles faded away and one of them asked,”No one told you?”

“No, what happened? Is he alright." 

“I'm so sorry, Dipper. Hank passed away.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the short chapter! But I feel like it was meant to be rather short. I'm gonna get off my ass and update faster this time around, guaranteed!

      Hank had died. Laura had smashed and destroyed all of her instruments and exercise books. And Victoria had tried to choke herself with the blanket that Dipper had given her. They had a small memorial service for Bill in the church room of the hospital and Dipper was not allowed to visit Laura and Victoria in their respective solitary chambers. Dipper just hoped that they weren’t over medicating them. He had brought it up with the head nurses, but, of course, Dipper seemed to be the only one who cared about the patient’s well being. Dipper could do nothing more and he walked away. 

      Sitting at his desk, his elbows were digging on the hard surface, fingers laced together and he rested his head on his hands. He may have recovered well enough, but that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t subject to mood swings, and the current events that had happened in a matter of one month didn’t make it any easier. He then heard his office door open, soft padding of footsteps along the floor as the newcomer plopped himself onto one of the chairs and Dipper did not look up, waiting for his companion to start the conversation for Dipper did not have the energy to do so. 

      “You wanna know what I think? Wait, never mind, don’t answer that. I’m gonna tell you either way. Anyway, I think you’re not stable enough to be here.” Dipper gave a huff and whispered,”Please, Bill. I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now.” Bill hummed and said,”When do you have the energy to do anything, Pine Tree?” Dipper gave a chuckle and leaned back into his seat, rubbing at his eyes and saying,”You’re right.” He chuckled some more and looked at Bill and in all the months that Dipper knew Bill, he had never seen a more serious face and Dipper snorted. “You’re right.” Dipper said, dropping his arms onto his lap with a smack. “Obviously this isn’t working. I haven’t even made a dent into these people’s lives. It’s gonna be a domino effect and the next thing you know, everyone is going to try to kill themselves with gifts that I gave to them for the progress that obviously wasn’t there.” 

      Bill said nothing and Dipper gave a big sigh, looking at the ceiling and trying so hard not to scream. “What am I going to do, Bill? How can I help them?” Tears pooled onto the edge of Dipper’s eyes, voice cracking as his glossy eyes looked towards Bill. “How can I help you?” Bill began,”How can you help me if you can’t even help yourself?” Dipper blinked, tears streaming down his cheeks as he croaked out a what. “Tell me, Mr. Pines. Tell me your story.” Dipper gulped and gave a shaky sigh, pulling out a hankercheif and wiping at his eyes. 

      “I was 12 when I was molested by my grandfather, 13 when he raped me. I didn’t say anything because my grandfather would tell me how much he loved me, and how could I tell someone what was happening to me when someone loved me that much?” Dipper rested his head on his knuckles. “Or it could be that the experiences would make me mute for long periods of time. My parents thought that I was going to be an introvert due to my behavior, my sister thought that I was weird and would make her look bad among friends, I have no idea what it with her and meeting new people.” Dipper looked up and Bill still held the same look. “Then the symptoms started. Hearing voices, seeing things, aggression, even homicidal thoughts at the age of 15.” Dipper licked his lips and continued. “They caught me, trying to suffocate my grandfather. He told them the truth and I never saw him again besides when I went to therapists and phycologists...In my head, anyway.” Dipper pointed at his head and then laid his hand on the desk. “That’s all there is to it. Nothing special, nothing big.” 

      Bill said nothing. “What even are you, Bill Cipher?” Dipper asked, leaning forward in his chair, patting at his eyes again. 

      Bill leaned forward as well and said,”I’m someone you haven’t had in your life for a very long time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments give me life and boost my confidence! ^.^ Also, check out my other works please, it would mean so much to me


	8. Announcement!

I'm so sorry for not updating in a long time. Due to personal issues and me getting ready for college, hopefully my muse will return to me and I can continue this work. Thank you to everyone who is understanding and patient! :3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments give me life and confidence! ^.^


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